Chasing Stars
by crookedsmile
Summary: just a short stuff on how THEY met on a separate universe...
1. Chapter 1

This is just a short stuff…I've been loving the rainy season…

Chasing Stars

He was on the other side of the bus, watching the rain as it stretch itself along its broken windows. The chaos of people running for shelter while some engage on deep kisses under the drenched shelters, with the darkness as it clothes them…

The blinding neon lights, the smoke of one's cigar, and the acrid odor of the stinking streets…everything made within spaces and time… It was humid- the sweat traces down his collarbone…and deeper…through his spine.

He turned to the other seat.

Occupied… by a woman.

He looked at the woman. She was staring blankly…silent as though she wasn't there.

Her lips were moving. He tried to hear her whisper.

She was humming.

"_What song" _he asked himself.

He left his seat and sat beside her. She looked at him. The humming stopped.

He pretended not to be interested. He looked ahead.

She closed her eyes…

The street was crowded and everyone was shouting as the corners became clogged with cars…as if everyone is going to the same place.

She relaxed herself and laid back…

…And continued humming.

He listened…it was getting clearer.

It was a song… A silent melody of a melancholic heart that sends its feelings to the stars above… never leaving a trace to look at.

Her fingers were also moving, tapping her knees.

I'd kiss the rain And whisper to the skies 

_To pour itself on me_

_And the world will see…_

_That you and I were meant to be…_

He spoke.

"May I know your name?"

She glared at him for a while, and then answered.

" It's… Cagalli…"

The bus started to move. He introduced his name but the sound of the bus as it skids along the noisy street seems to swallow his voice.

She didn't hear… she didn't listen.

He continued to enjoy this lonely ride.

The bus pulls to a stop.

And the rain also stopped.

She stood and excused herself.

His eyes met hers for the last time.

She moved ahead for the door… and he gazed at the infinite space that lies between them.

The door opened.

He stood and shouted.

"Wait!"

Everyone was surprised. She looked back.

She said, "Why?"

"I don't want to chase stars on the rainy season…" he simply said.

She stepped back inside the bus… in front of him.

"Nice meeting you…Athrun," she said.

Then she pulled something out of her pocket.

A piece of paper.

He was once again staring at the window... smiling.

The sky is clear, with the stars watching.

"_Call me…"_ she said as she left.

I'm imagining this scenario…What could they look like when their not in GSD and somewhere which is far more ordinary? I think it'd be cool to know they still have the spark…


	2. Dizzy

_Dizzy_

Staring through the ceiling of his apartment, with the piece of paper in his hand.

The pale moon watches over the world made of broken dreams and sorrow, and it was the infinity of these scenes that made the night follows the day.

He looked at the phone- dead.

He sighed. His eyes were growing tired. His socks were damp. The bed wasn't comfortable.

Nothing new.

The piece of pizza that was left yesterday was still there…already stale.

The cold wind rushes through the semi-opened window. It made his hair move, but his eyes were still stoned.

Once again, he looked at the piece of paper.

He left the bed and went to the phone.

Dialed the number that was almost unreadable. The ink used to write it smudged all over the paper.

There was a ring… and then another.

A voice answered.

"Yes?"

He took a deep breath.

"Hello?" the voice continued.

"It's me…"

The voice went silent.

The husky tone of the woman whom he met once again spoke.

"Athrun."

"Uhuh."

They were both silent after that. It's been a week since that incident on the bus happened. Every night, Athrun does this.

He dials her number, but he presses the phone's plunger, just as the call is being answered.

The voice began to speak again.

" Why?"

It was a simple question. He didn't bother answering.

The voice once again spoke.

"Meet me…"

He hangs up. Went to the closet to change, and then he's off.

(end of scene)

The coffee was bitter, but she added a lot of cream to mask the taste.

She was taking a sip. He was in front of her. He was writing something… A poem.

About her? She isn't sure.

He handed out the paper. She read it.

Dizzy 

_I'm like the doubting hands of the prophet_

_Who longed to touch your side_

_Broken and fragile_

_And dizzy for redemption…_

She smiled. Her golden brown eyes got the meaning.

She stood and leaned against his ear.

"I understand…"

(End of scene)

He was lying on her bed. She was half- asleep. Her hands kept on tracing the contours of his face. Once again, the wind rushes through his naked skin. He was staring at the apartment's ceiling.

The view isn't familiar.

Her soft body curled into a tight ball beside him.

Strange. But it was real.

The infinite space between them, reduced to a simple inch… and they became one.

It was really strange.

He smelled her hair.

She opened her eyes…gave him a knowing look.

"_I'm here…"_


	3. Gravity

_Gravitation_

It was half-past midnight, but he was still awake.

Insomnia.

He stepped out of his shell and went outside for a walk. Strange that he felt this, but he finds himself riding the bus…

Towards her place.

He knocked instead of using the doorbell. When no one answered, he decided to use it anyway.

Two minutes, with one ring.

His feet was getting cold… a little impatient.

The door opened.

Her eyes were half-closed, and she was half conscious.

They stared at each other for a while. She leaned at the doorway, blocking his view of what's inside her.

" Trouble sleeping?" she asked.

" Insomnia," he replied.

She reached out for his hand. The door was closed.

Her place was a bit dim -she refused to use the fluorescent lights. Instead, candles and a century-old lampshade illuminate the place. He laid his back on the couch. She went in the kitchen.

He once again looked at the ceiling. For some reason, he finds the similarity of this to his own.

She returned, holding two glasses of hot chocolate.

He was looking at the pictures on the nearby table. One was hers. Her hair was _shorter_, and she was wearing those big braces as she flashes an infectious smile at the camera.

The other picture was with a brown-haired boy.

"My twin brother…" she said, as if she knew what he's thinking.

They sat in front of each other. For moments they remain that way. Silent as they finish the their share of the drink.

She took a deep breath. Her golden brown eyes glowed as she looked at him, intently.

He was looking on his cup… almost empty.

"You like to spend the night here?"

It was like a question that has already been answered.

"May I?" he asked.

"No problem."

_This universal gravitation that holds everything in its place… It draws people sharing love, lust, and pain… whatever you call it._

_And when everything is bent towards each other, and the space merely condensed- is when all things seem to feel comfortable… twisted logic, as it seems._

He was studying her as she drifts off. She was half-covered with the thick blanket.

He began tracing using his fingers on her shoulders… down to her arms… and hands. She began to move, as if she felt the sensation. She opened her eyes once more.

His eyes were deep… mysterious… and lonely. She saw everything in a few seconds.

She reached out and gave him a kiss.

They will be like this, drawn like two pieces of broken magnets… never finding how or why…but they just do.

She knew it.

He laid his head on her chest, feeling some security on her fragile body. For some reason, the coldness was bearable. It wasn't gone, but somehow with her, he's beginning to go through…

This is an experimental chapter… a little bit personal for me…


	4. A glass half empty

A Glass Half- Empty

_When will you say that the glass is half-empty?_

_When is it half-full? _

It is Saturday night and Cagalli decided to take Athrun to _her_ parents' house for dinner.

On the way, they started debating about this question.

"I think," she says as she puts her coat on, " It's more appropriate to call it half-full. If it has something in it-like water of instance, it should be described as…"

Athrun was staring at her image in the large mirror. Her lips were glossy because of the lip balm. She was wearing everything at ease.

"…_the glass is half-filled_ _with water_," she ended.

"It's half- empty…" Athrun countered. But he didn't bother saying why.

" No. It's half-full."

They were on the sidewalk…waiting for a cab.

Her hand was placed beneath his… barely holding each other, but feeling the presence is more than enough.

"Where are we heading?" the cab driver asked as they took off.

"23rd Maple Street…" Cagalli instructed.

They were seated at the back of the car.

" Mr. And Ms. Yamato… aren't my real parents," Cagalli confessed.

" They adopted me and my brother when we were three…"

The car skids along the highway. The engine is quite noisy.

"I…didn't have any parents," Athrun said. " They died of a plane crash, a year after I was born."

"Who adopted you?" she asked.

"No one. My aunt took care of me, and soon as I grew old enough to understand that I'm all alone, I left her."

" I see."

They entered the familiar street. Cagalli looked at the window.

The houses were not that big and fancy, but one can tell that almost _all l_of them are _cozy_…

" When someone drinks on the glass of water, it was- emptied, right?"

He asked without looking. The headlights of the incoming vehicle flashes through his eyes, but they never blink.

" But when someone puts water to an empty glass…it is filled… right?" she said to him.

The car pulls to a stop.

"We're here," she said.

(End of scene)

Cagalli's parents were warm. They were very accommodating.

"She said she wants to have her favorite food done… because she has a special guest," Mrs. Yamato said to Athrun.

" And she was very excited too. She's been convincing us to postpone our trip for this weekend," her father added.

" Stop that you guys," Cagalli said. She was blushing.

A familiar voice called out to her.

"Haven't seen you for a while…"

"Hey! You're here too!" Cagalli said upon seeing her brother descend through the stairs.

" This is Kira…" She introduced him to Athrun.

" So you're the first one…" Kira started but Cagalli stepped on his foot so he wasn't able to continue.

"Aw! What's that for?" Kira yelled.

" Just…shut…up."

They had dinner. The food was great, and it filled everyone.

-Steamed lobsters, grilled turkey, and potato salad.

The dessert- blueberry cheesecake.

Athrun felt warmth from this family. He saw them… he observed.

The glass on front of him… was half empty.

Cagalli was with her mother in the kitchen, preparing the dessert.

" A quiet person…" her mother started describing their guest.

"…A bit mysterious, but I know…he has a good heart." She winked at her daughter.

"You are the first guy that she introduced to mom and dad…out of the _tons_," Kira finished what he had started to say earlier.

Athrun just smiled. "I think I'm happy to hear that."

"So, what do you do?" Mr. Yamato asked.

" I'm a scriptwriter, photographer/ editor… whatever the situation calls," Athrun answered.

" Very artistic indeed," Kira commented.

The dinner was over, and a little bit of chattering followed.

Then, the visit was through.

She was with him. They decided to take the bus, and walk for a while.

"What did they say to you?"

" Just a little bit of interview," Athrun replied.

The stars were countless as they feast the cloudless sky. A full moon.

They continued to walk without talking. Suddenly, Cagalli stopped. Athrun went a few steps in front of her before realizing what she did.

"You're glass… was half empty," she whispered. Her eyes were misty.

He looked back at her.

" Yours was half-filled…" he said with a painful smile.

_For this world where everything seems to go unnoticed, and feelings vanish like the thin air, the question of whether a glass is empty or filled seems to make no sense._

_But we all carry these glasses, like a dream, or a dark secret._

_Either way, glasses which are half-filled should be completely **filled**, and half-emptied glasses be completely **emptied**…_

Or _both-_ be occupied 'till everything overflows.


	5. Under the weather

_Under the Weather_

They decided to spend the day at the mall to watch a movie, and then shop (at least for Cagalli's part).

They were having coffee at _Figaro_. He loves espresso while she goes for cappuccino.

The weather was unpredictable in those times. It would be very hot in the morning and then the rain would start to pour in the afternoon.

Umbrella is a must.

She forgot to bring some. He didn't have any (always lost it somewhere).

"Hey… would you like to play a game?" she asked him. Her eyes were glistening for something he never knew.

"Game? What kind of game?"

He was enjoying the view of her golden brown eyes as it glowed.

"It's called – _pretend-you-don't-know-me_."

"Pretend…?" He started to laugh. He got the message.

"If you can't stand it… you could always talk to me… but you lose," she said to him.

" What would happen if I win?" he asked.

" Well if I win, then you're going to pay for my credit card bills…"she said with a laugh.

"And if I win?" he countered.

"You could make me do whatever you want…I guess," she said.

The game started.

They finished their coffee without speaking.

Went separate ways after.

She went to the boutique where she usually buys her clothes. He went to the stall just in front of the place where she headed to… and got hooked on the latest models of camera and other gadgets.

She looked outside… at him, while she picks out her preference among the garments before her.

He pretended not to notice, but soon as she turns away… he looked at the same direction… towards her.

She went out with a couple of shopping bags.

He walked behind her, holding nothing.

She headed for the ice cream booth.

He went there too.

She ordered _cookies in cream_… he chose _rocky road._

They ate side by side without talking. They did have coffee earlier, and then they dug for ice cream.

The weather is indeed unpredictable.

He finished first… went for the men's restroom.

She immediately finished hers… and went to the women's.

Then… off to the movie house.

They went to the same movie. He paid for her ticket.

He said to the personnel, " Give this to the girl with a blue dress. Tell her she doesn't have to buy her ticket." Then he went inside.

The person relayed the message to Cagalli. She smiled, and followed him.

She sat right next to him.

Still- no talking.

_The movie was about war, and a boy who was caught between protecting his loved one, and saving his country._

The movie ended. She was in tears. Wiping herself with a handkerchief, she looked at him. He was looking at her. She gave him a pout while sniffing.

He caught back his laughter.

_So sentimental_- he thought.

_The war ended, but the protagonist's love interest died when they were reunited… because of some sickness._

The sky was beginning to look dim. Clouds were gathering and people began scrambling for shelter as the rain started to invade the busy streets.

She was hungry. She went to have some pizza and he followed.

They were seated separately… right in front of each other.

-Ordered the same kind of pizza. She added some _carbonara_ to be different.

But he ordered spaghetti with meatballs.

It still the same- both were pasta.

Since she was already starving, she finishes first.

She left and headed towards the jewelry shop.

Found a really beautiful and expensive ring. She was about to tell him that this is what she wants when he proposes to her, but as she looked behind, he wasn't there.

Holding the ring, she started to search around. He wasn't everywhere.

Walking_ alone_, she began to feel restless… worried… empty.

"No. I will not lose this game," she said.

Thirty minutes past… she wasn't able to enjoy herself anymore. She went to all the places she thinks he might have gone to, but he wasn't there.

He didn't follow her.

Rain was starting to get on everyone's sleeves. She went outside the mall… started to look for a cab-without an umbrella.

She was beginning to get drenched under this stormy weather, when someone made the rain stop. He was behind her, with an umbrella in his hand, stretched out to shelter her body.

She held her breath… and cried softly.

"I thought… you… left. Stupid me," she said.

" So it seems that I won…" he replied.

She nodded. " What would you want me do?" she asked.

He stretched his hand to grab her waist… and pulled her towards him. His breath was warm, as she leaned herself at him.

" Don't _ever_ do this again," he finished as he kisses her temple.

I like to make the chapters short and _stand for themselves_, because I'm running out of ideas if things are to be "hanged"… well thanks for reading.


	6. Constellations I

Constellations 

Day one:

Athrun decided to have a 'general-clean-up'. The old pieces of mementos from the forgotten life needed to be thrown away. Stocked papers containing stories, which he'd written long ago… all of them branded with '_I have to change these'_ or '_not that good'_ – all evaluated and rejected by him. He was his own editor/ critic.

Until _she _came.

(flashback)

She was burying her nose on his manuscript as she reads it. Holding a piece of apple on her left hand, with the paper on the right, as she sits by his window in that cloudy Sunday afternoon. He was sitting right in front of her- writing on an old Jacobean table he'd inherited from one of his friends.

"If you lean a little bit more to that shabby window, you're very close to throwing yourself outside."

Her brows were tied into a knot- still reading, as though she heard nothing.

"I don't mind picking you up…but then you have to get changed, because it's muddy down there," he continued.

Still, no response.

He was enjoying this monologue. His pen was beginning to lose ink.

"I'll be very much _pleased_ to dress _you_ up…" He gave her a meaningful look.

She heard it.

"Such a pervert…" she said as she shook her head.

Then she gaped at him. Her eyes wide open…

"I didn't understand," she said. This was not the first time she had this comment on his work.

" Don't tire yourself to thinking. That isn't meant for your small brain…" he said as he continue writing.

" I'm not stupid," she sneered at him.

" Of course you're not." He looked apologetic.

"But _that's_ what you're saying."

"No. It's me… my brain's too twisted. You're just too innocent," he clarified.

She was silent for a while.

" Why do you write these?" She began to wonder. "All of these… are sad, puzzling… and without conclusions?"

"I've written that, three years ago."

" And?" she asked.

"I've changed my style…I don't write that way anymore."

"But still, you were capable of writing things, like these." She sounded wounded.

He looked at her, studied her sullen expression. He isn't used to seeing her like that.

" Did _it _really affect you? I'll burn them… if you want."

" No." She looked at him. She held the papers tightly on her chest. She looked at him, with teary eyes.

" You were lonely back then. So lonely that it reflected on your writings…"

He stood and went in front of her. He held out his hand.

"Now I understand." She said without blinking.

He opened the window, and the cool breeze came in. Some of the papers that she wasn't holding were blown away a few inches from her feet. He stooped and picked them up.

"When you placed water on an empty glass, how would you describe it?" She asked him. It's been three months since their talk about this happened.

"Back then, I call it half- empty."

"But now?" she asked again.

"It's still half-empty."

She bowed. "You're still lonely…"

He sat beside her, holding the other pieces of his old manuscript.

"You…filled the empty half."

(This is just day one… a little bit of clarification, and reflections on my part. Thanks for reading)


	7. Constell II

Day two:

The spaces must be adjusted.

He thought his place was as small as a rat hole. But after getting rid of almost tons of stacked papers, he was surprised how these "junk" had 'crowded' him for years.

And then, the next project was the spaces. Furniture must be moved and his bed must be transferred to fill those that were occupied by the long-forgotten papers.

After dealing with every piece of his belongings and moving them to where they should be, he began to feel a new atmosphere around him. It seems like this place wasn't the one before.

Sitting on a chair in the middle of his "spacious" room, with the four windows open wide- permitting the salty air to rush through. His eyes were closed, feeling it as it gives a cool effect on his sweat-stained skin.

He sighed. As if everything was relieved from his exhausted being.

Then he stood and looked around. Went to the kitchen.

He's hungry.

(flashback)

They were having a petty fight. The reason- eggs.

She said she wanted milk on her scrambled eggs. He said it would only cloud the taste of the egg, so better not add milk with it. Eggs and salt in pan is fine.

She said he was so boring, that even in his food, he dislikes complicated things.

He said he's sorry because he was used to living with everything made simple.

"Fine. I'll cook my eggs- you cook yours," Cagalli said as she grabs _his_ pan.

"You've forgotten. I washed that (referring to the pan). So its me who's going to cook first."

She pretended not to hear anything. Placed the pan on the stove, and turn the heat on.

She went to the fridge to get some eggs. She was surprised to know that there's only one egg left.

Athrun followed her- he wasn't aware of her discovery.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

She wasn't facing him. He went closer to see.

She was staring at the poor egg- ready to be executed…by whom?

-Both of them were silent for a while.

"So, who's going to take it?" Athrun asked.

Cagalli reached out inside to get the egg, then faced him.

"We're fighting as to how to cook _them_, yet too stupid to check if there's something to cook anyway."

"So, I think a simple scrambled egg would do," he concluded.

"NO. I got this first, so this one's _mine_."

She immediately went to the cupboard for some milk and cheese.

Opened the can of milk, sliced the cheese- then broke the egg.

He went to the oven to check from last night's leftovers.

He found a slice of pizza. Reheated the food.

They were having breakfast. No talk. The sound of her fork as it hits the plate, and his noisy 'eating' were echoing around such a small place.

He finishes first.

Got some coffee, and went to his paperwork.

She went outside. Never bothered saying goodbye.

He just looked at her as she shuts the door.

He was writing a script for a certain play- that would be held three months after.

Busy editing the dialogue, the scenes… the characters.

The door once again opened.

She came back. He didn't bother lifting his head to look. He knows that it was she. Maybe she has that scent that he knows very well, or the fact that she's the only person that could enter his 'tiny kingdom' without the hesitation of knocking.

He heard noises in the kitchen.

She wasn't saying anything.

Then, a few minutes past, she went to his room- holding a piece of platter.

He looked up and saw- scrambled eggs. The way he wanted them to be.

Simple. No milk, no cheese. Just salt.

"I went to the grocery store and bought a dozen… so we didn't have to fight next time."

He stretched his hand to receive the platter, and her apologies.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Then he suddenly stood, grabbed her hand and went to the kitchen.

They had another round of breakfast.

This time, he was eating her scrambled egg with milk and cheese, and she was digging for his simple dish.

"This isn't bad at all," – both of them thought.

(end of flashback)

He searched around for food and there's none. He hasn't gone out to buy groceries because of his 'general-cleaning'.

He went to the fridge- opened it.

Found a piece of egg.

He smiled and grabbed it.

(I think I'm done with eggs for now. Just woken up, and refused to eat any. I just stared at it as it fills my platter…then I thought of this story… such hormones…yeah)


	8. Lazy

Day three:

Lazy.

He was too tired to get up…even to open his eyes.

Eight-thirty- and he's still there, spreading himself along the covers.

The airconditioner was turned off, and it was simply irresistible to lay back and feel the cool breeze as it enters his window. The sun was pale… weather's fine.

He was having a dream.

A good dream… he was dreaming of her.

She was beside him, the same weather as this, and it was Sunday.

No work.

He was the first one to wake up… and he was waiting for her eyes to open.

Got out of the bed- got some sketchbook and "charcoal pencil".

She opened her eyes- he wasn't with her. She felt the cool air around her- sent some shivers on her skin. She looked around and saw him- on his Jacobean table- busy.

"I'm sorry…I should have gone home…didn't know you have to do some work…"

She said this as she approaches him.

He looked up at her and gave her a lazy grin.

"I really don't mind having you here…" His eyes were on hers.

She was wearing a silk nightgown with her blonde hair filling her shoulders and back. The light gives a dramatic effect on her golden-brown eyes and skin.

"I… really don't mind- at all," he said as he studies her 'perfect image'.

She felt her cheeks-warmed by his meaningful eyes and words.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He didn't answer. She went closer to see.

He was drawing an image of her … asleep. He was very good. The picture was done in an _impressionist's_ eye. She held her breath…

She was standing in front for him… too close for the sunlight to pass through. He once again looked at her. _Fiery_…

The sketchbook was on the floor. She was sitting on his lap. Both of them… were on each other's eyes…nothing else.

He touched her shoulders… down to her arms, as the piece of clothing fell away. He was studying her skin. He wanted to know how it burns in the sun, and shiver when in cold. He wanted to know… how it tasted… and how it felt under his crude and skillful hands.

He was painting a picture of her, using his hands as brush and eyes as the ink. She was his portrait and his canvas. Everything seemed insignificant.

He hair spilled across his shoulders as she receives this gift that he was offering her…the passion that he was capable of giving her.

Her eyes were closed and she was humming- a song.

_If stars belong to constellations_

_I would be there in the skies_

_Within your eyes the universe _

_Will be with mine- in time_

_I shall wait for those constellations_

_To come and set me free…_

He woke up and realized that everything was a dream. He smelled the sheets…

It smells good.


	9. Little wing

This is chapter 9. Before I begin, I'd like to say that "Chasing Stars" is very special among my works. Majority of the chapters here were taken from my personal insights and feelings- no wonder some of them were 'confusing' as some might say. I'm wearing a twisted halo, that's why. I'm glad to share these thoughts to you fellow readers and thanks for the reviews.

He woke up after sleeping for almost twelve hours… and dreaming about her for about two.

It's one o'clock in the afternoon. His eyes were still half-closed as he wanders around in search for his shirt and jeans.

It was the phone that he found, buried among the piles of the documents that remained from the tons that he got rid during the two-day clean-up.

He placed the phone on the bedside… went to the unattended papers to fix them.

As he began to sort, he found something that made him smile.

A piece of paper that he kept, half-a year ago, plus two others- all containing her stories.

Written on the first one, was their conversation…

He sat by the bed and read what it said. It's like eternity has passed since they've done this.

They could spend the day together, silent… but the distance was bearable…to near to understand even each other's breath.

That day, they decided to hold their conversation on a piece of paper.

They were in a coffee shop. He was working with his script and she with her patient analysis report.

The café was too quiet. Quite a few people came for an afternoon coffee. Some were lovers; others were complete strangers sharing some lonely seats, as they take a sip of their drink without talking- or caring for each other. He observes them as they move around. The smell of brewed coffee filled the place… It always has the same effect on him, as it does to her. Nostalgia.

He began to create a situation on his work- much like this- quiet- yet warm place.

The tip of her pen began rubbing his left hand. She wants to say something… but she doesn't want to speak out. Odd.

Maybe that's what draws the two of them together.

The oddness of their personalities… a lot of differences that seem to fit each other.

Cagalli reached out for a piece of paper under Athrun's palm.

"_It's such a lazy day. Too quiet."_

Athrun wrote his reply.

"_Want to go somewhere?"_

"_No."_ She answered.

"_What are you thinking?"_ Athrun asked.

"_About…you."_

That made him smile.

"_Why?"_

Cagalli gave him a knowing look.

"_I've been observing you, as you observe the others around here."_

"_What did you find out?"_

No response. He reached out for the paper and again, wrote.

_"You aren't supposed to be pry…"_

She read it and gave out a giggle. Then, with her long, slender fingers began writing her reply.

"_I'm not as poetic as you…so all I have to say is… I've realized, upon seeing you…with your eyes watching the world- writing about it- that I was lucky."_

He was amused by her words.

"_Lucky?"_ He wanted her to continue.

"_Don't push your luck… I'm not going to repeat that complement." _She replied.

He took a sip of his coffee. Studied her as she once again diverts her attention to her work.

That lasted for minutes. Then she reached out for the piece of paper.

_"Why are you staring?"_

He didn't reply. She once again wrote.

"_Prying?"_

"_There's some cream left on you lips." _He wrote.

She immediately got her handkerchief to wipe it off, but before she does- he reached out and wiped it with his hand.

"_Thank you," _she wrote.

The music in the café was her favorite song- 'Little Wing.'

"_Love the song," _she wrote.

"_It's the first time that I heard it. What does it say?"_ he asked.

She wrote the lyrics as they sound to her. It isn't accurate, but that's the way it reaches her ears.

" _Now she's walking through the clouds_

_With a circus in mind- that's running wild_

_Butterflies and zebras and moonbeams and fairy tales_

_All she ever thinks about- is riding little wings."_

He studied the lyrics as they appear to him.

"_You want to have such wings right?"_

She smiled at him and nodded.

"_I already have one. All I need is another to make a pair,"_ she replied.

"_Such a child…"_

She read what he had written. –_Such- a- child_

It took a while for her to reply. He thought she wouldn't, that the conversation about circus and wings was over. He began rewriting what's on his mind- regarding the scene he wanted to portray, like _this_ one that they're having.

He felt the paper went under his left palm.

He read what it said- hesitant words.

"_You have a beautiful wing- can I have it so I can complete mine?"_

He replied.

"_My wing isn't beautiful- it's broken and burned."_

Her eyes were as true as the skies. She looked at him while writing her reply.

"_My wing wasn't burned, nor broken- but it can't fly… yours do."_

His eyes were fixed as he read the last line. After six months, it still had the same effect on him. He took a deep breath.

Looked at the window – then to the other piece of paper.

Written there was her self- confession.

"_Sometimes I couldn't recognize my own self. My feet don't look like they're my own, and my face has too many lines I can't count them."_

She wrote this, a week after learning about her father's sickness. She'd become depressed in those times.

And then- to another paper.

" _When people die where do they go? I used to asked that when I was a kid."_

_"It doesn't matter. I have your wings, I know I'll always fly- and you'll see me wherever I go- right?"_

Such thoughts.

He began to read the last paper that he's holding.

_" Why do people try to run- as fast as they should? I don't want to run, because all I can see is distance. I've been running all my life- now; I want to be with you. I'm tired of running…"_

The afternoon sun was a little bit dim- solar eclipse.

He looked out the window when darkness swallowed the place.

The sun was completely covered by the dark shadow.

People were scattered on the street, witnessing the phenomenon.

His phone rang. He picked it up.

"Hello?"

"The sky's dark…"

"Uhuh…"

"I'm on my way there, but the driver stopped as it became dark. What did you do all day?"

"Nothing. Slept…"

"And?" The voice on the phone once again asked.

"I've been reading some stories of a girl who lost a wing… and wanted to get mine."

She laughed.

"I thought yours was broken?"

"But it can fly…" he returned those words to her.


	10. Stars,FireworksConstellations

_This will be the **last chapter** for this fic. I'm glad to have shared this special work with you and thanks for reading…_

It was the 18th of September. It is special day for everyone in the city because it's the day when the sun goddess and its twin, the moon sentinel were born.

The same for the two of them. This was their first anniversary.

She was with him, on his place. No candles, no flowers, no romantic songs and fancy stuff.

She was eating some popcorn while he was writing the final revision of his script for the play.

"It's funny, how these (she picked up a piece of the food) smell so delicious but when you taste it… nothing but air." Ate the poor thing after scrutinizing it.

"You mean, you get _fooled_ because you crave for them as soon as you smell the butter. A little disappointment for some gluttons … but that's the way it should be. Blame the sun god," he said.

She was sitting on the chair adjacent to his. She stopped eating and looked at him.

He noticed it.

"What?"

She shook her head, then ate a kernel.

"Do you remember…" she began to ask.

He raised his head to meet her gaze.

"… The day we first met? Why did you transfer seats back then?"

He recalled that day. September 18th, a year ago. The streets were crowded, damp and noisy. His heart was as drenched as the weather. A woman was occupying a seat near to him. She was humming.

" Why did I transfer seats? I was …. _curious_- that's all," Athrun replied.

"You're _interested _not curious," Cagalli clarified.

"You were singing…" He dropped his pen and left his work. Time was never a problem for him. But now, a year has passed since that faithful day. He didn't even have the time to think it over. _Reasons for things that happen… can only be found when the right time comes_.

"I thought you were singing. And I was curious of the song," he admitted.

She smiled.

That's the only reason he had in mind. To find out what song is she signing. He even introduced himself to her- that far, he'd gone for it.

"It was a song that my friend composed, when she was still alive. She said that people, are just like the stars. Stars belong to constellations, and _people_… there is someone out there… whom _we_ people belong to."

She went to the window and opened it. The fireworks for the festival were starting to crown the open skies. Blue, red… hues that painted the sky as they explode. The air… smell like gunpowder. Just like it did when they first met.

She sat by the window and watch the skies burn.

He was watching her.

Left his seat and went to the window, where she's settled.

She looked at him. The color of fireworks reflected on her eyes.

"We… are like _those_ right?" She pointed towards the burning scene of the heavens.

"The fireworks or the stars?" Athrun asked.

He was having a different view. Though the clouds were flaming, he can still see the stars. They glisten on his eyes, far better than the fireworks.

"I hope we're like those stars," he continued.

She suddenly thought of something. Then she said it aloud,

"Why… did you say… you don't want to chase stars on the rainy season?"

He thought she got what he meant back then. Maybe she did. Her heart understood, that's why she's with him, a year after.

He leaned forward to whisper what _that_ meant.

"Stars rarely show up when the sky's full of clouds… yet I saw one sitting beside me. And as she leaves, I thought I wouldn't see another star."

Her eyes warmed, as they understood what he meant. His nose touched hers and their lips met.

They shared a long kiss that seemed different to everything that they had.

" Funny, I was thinking about this, when I was singing back then," Cagalli said.

"Would you sing the whole song for me?" Athrun asked..

**_I'd kiss the rain_ _And whisper to the skies_**

_**To pour itself on me **_

_**And the world will see… **_

_**That you and I were meant to be**… _

_**If stars belong to constellations**_

_**I would be there in the skies **_

_**Within your eyes the universe **_

_**Will be with mine- in time **_

_**I shall wait for those constellations **_

_**To come and set me free… **_

Fin.


End file.
